


You've Got Time

by TheQuantumQueer



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Child Soldiers, Gen, Human Trafficking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuantumQueer/pseuds/TheQuantumQueer
Summary: When the Forward Unto Dawn left the Ark and jumped for Earth, the fore section crashed into the Indian Ocean and the aft section was declared lost in space. What no one realized was that both halves arrived at their destination. The stern just got there a little sooner than expected.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> _Think of all the roads; think of all their crossings._  
>  _Taking steps is easy; standing still is hard._  
>  _Remember all their faces; remember all their voices._  
>  _Everything is different the second time around._  
>  _And you've... got... time..._  
>   
>  \-- Regina Spektor, "You've Got Time"

_Sol System_  
11 Dec 2516  
1628 hours

Tactical Officer Nguyen blinked at her console. She rubbed her eyes and looked at it again. “Sir?” she said. “Slipspace rupture five thousand kilometers off our port stern.”

Captain Callahan laughed. “Ensign, we’re on approach to Earth. What makes a slipspace rupture worth mentioning?”

Nguyen shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Sir, according to this readout… it’s us. IFF identifies the vessel as the Dawn.”

The captain pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh hell. This is what I get for making shore leave plans before I hear the docking clamps. Battlestations, yellow alert. Lieutenant Reyes, hail them.”

“Aye, Sir.” The comm officer reached for the control, shooting a glance at Ensign Nguyen who returned it with a shrug.

“Unidentified vessel, this is UNSC FFG-201 Forward Unto Dawn. Identify yourself.” Callahan hoped his voice sounded steadier than it felt. Something was very very wrong about all this.

A female voice came back over the line. “Roger, Forward Unto Dawn. This might be the hardest thing your career ever asks you to believe, but this is UNSC FFG-201 Forward Unto Dawn, or what’s left of her.”

Captain Callahan deflated slightly into his captain’s chair. “Right. Let’s say I believe you. Who am I talking to?”

“My name is Cortana. UNSC AI serial number CTN-0452-9. The Dawn is dead in space with one VIP survivor, prioritization code V-53-S-117.”

The captain turned to look at the small pedestal by his armrest. “Anton?" A holographic image of a musclebound athlete wearing nothing but shorts, shoes, and a Russian flag appeared and looked up at him. “What can you tell me about those codes?”

“They do not exist.” Anton’s Russian accent was heavy. “However, the rest of the claims are feasible. Cortana is the most powerful Smart AI I have encountered and could only be UNSC. The vessel is severely damaged, but scans match the aft end of a Charon-class frigate and reveal that there is a single life sign aboard.”

“Right.” The captain stood and straightened his shirt. “Cortana, I don’t know what’s going on here, but-“

“Captain, if I may interrupt?” Cortana interrupted. “What year is it?”

Callahan didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. “It’s… 2516. Why?”

“Because, Captain Callahan, I need you to get a message to Vice Admiral Stanforth, ONI Section III.”

Callahan tried to remember if he had given his name.

“Tell him “Halsey’s plan worked.””


	2. Truth and Reconciliation

_ONI Sword Base, Reach_  
_14 Dec 2516_  
_1039 hours_

"So let me get this straight. You're telling me that you're a super-soldier who was born a little less than 6 years ago and that you've spent the last 27 years fighting on the losing side of a war of attrition against an alien threat comprised of not one but seven different types of aliens no one has ever heard of, all held together by their shared religion that worships an eighth type of alien that bit the big one fighting a  _ninth_ type of alien no one has ever heard of, and the only reason we survived is because that ninth type came back and turned them all into zombies. You're also saying that one of those seven types of aliens, which, I cannot possibly overstress,  _no one has ever heard of_ , turned on the other six and allied with humanity on the orders of one specific alien who was personally responsible for turning dozens of human worlds, including Reach, where we are currently sitting, into smoldering balls of glass, and that the Fleet Admiral, who is currently a Lieutenant Commander, was a willing and active party to this alliance and continued to approve of it even after watching the aliens bombard all of Eastern Africa with Plasma. And most crucially, the perfectly logical explanation for why all of this sounds ludicrous is that until 3 days ago, you were 36 years in the future?"

John nodded. "Yes sir."

The agent sitting across from him dropped his forehead into his hands and rubbed his temples. "God, why do they always give me the crazy ones? Okay. Let's say you're actually a Master Chief from the future. These "covenants" or whatever don't show up for another ten years almost, so you would have spent that whole time fighting Innies, right?"

"Negative, sir. My first mission was not until 2525, when my team successfully captured Colonel Robert Watts from Eridanus Secundus."

The agent breathed a heavy sigh. "Good god, we're still fighting the rebels after that long? Regardless, do you have any intel that would corroborate your story?"

"The MJOLNIR power armor I was wearing when I came in. The AI that was with me would know more."

"How convenient for your story that you don't know anything."

"Sir, in my defense, the last time I was in 2516 I was five years old."

The agent sighed. "Of course you were."

The door beeped open. "Agent Patterson, the AI has verified the Master Chief's story, and he will be given a full debriefing at a later time. You're dismissed."

"Sir." The agent gathered the files in front of him and left without another word as the black-uniformed man who had entered crossed to take his place.

"No need to stand, Spartan. My name is Vice Admiral Stanforth. Let's talk about both of your futures."


	3. Sierra 117

_Eridanus II_  
_17 Aug 2517_  
_1406 hours_

The hum of the Han's engines swelled, then tapered off to silence as LTJG Keyes landed the diplomatic shuttle. "Here you are, Doctor," he said.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Dr. Halsey's eyes were fixed squarely on her datapad. "Codename: SIERRA, I would like you to be the one to interview this candidate."

Keyes suppressed a shudder as the large man with too many scars undid his harness and stood to attention a bit too quickly for comfort.

"Aye, ma'am. What am I screening for?" His voice was deep, gravelly, and even, and carried a confidence behind it that implied he had witnessed and overcome horrors no one else alive could imagine even if they dared to try.

Halsey paused a moment before she answered, glancing at the lieutenant less subtly than she probably intended. "Luck, chutzpah, and anything...strange... you might notice that you can't explain." She handed him the datapad and he disembarked.

As soon as the hatch closed behind him, she turned to Keyes. "You're refraining very loudly from asking your questions. Either ask them or don't."

Keyes looked down at his hands for a moment, then up at the viewscreen to where a veritable monster of a man was walking too-gracefully toward a group of children playing on a small hill. He didn't know the specifics, but after nearly a month of escorting the doctor around the colonies to interview her "candidates," he would have been lying if he told himself he didn't understand at least some of what they were doing.

Finally, he turned to look at her. "Is it worth it?"

* * *

John-117 watched the children play for several long moments. The goal of the game seemed to be to establish and defend a position at the top of the hill by shoving the other children down it. One boy, a head taller than the others, had total tactical control. John checked the datapad to confirm. The boy was indeed the candidate. His name was...

John froze. He had not been as prepared for this as he had thought. Staring back at him from below the boy's photograph were words that it made total sense for him to eventually come across, but to which he didn't know how to react. "Subject #117: Jonathan Thomas Black." He shook his head clear. He would deal with that later. Right now he had a job to do.

Stowing the datapad in his breast pocket, John walked toward the hill. One girl screamed when she saw him, and almost immediately the entire group had run off, leaving only the boy at the top and a few others hanging back several yards, too afraid to stand fast, but too proud to fully retreat.

"Who are you?" the boy demanded.

"My name is John. What's yours?"

"John is my name too." The boy relaxed a bit. "You're really big and you look strong. Are you here to take the hill from me?"

"No, I'm not. I just want to ask you some questions. What game are you playing?"

The boy swelled with pride. "It's called King of the Hill, but I'm not playing." A grin spread across his face. "I'm winning."

John laughed. "So you are. Would you like to play another game? I can teach it to you."

"I don't play games, I win them. What's the game?"

John pulled his dogtags out from under his shirt and opened a small pouch that was hung from them to remove a small metal disk. "This is called a quarter," he said. "Hundreds of years ago, before we had credits, people used these for money." He handed the coin to the boy.

"There's a bird on one side and a man's face on the other," said the boy. "I like it."

"If you win this game, you can keep it," said John. "What I'm going to do is flip it in the air, and you tell me which side is going to be up when it lands."

The boy burst out laughing. "That's an easy game! You're on!" He gave the coin back excitedly. With a flick of his thumb, John sent the quarter tumbling up through the air. "The bird!" shouted the boy, and with a soft thud, the coin landed in the grass with the eagle facing up.

"I win!" the boy laughed. "I told you that was an easy game!"

John smied. "So you did. I'll let you get back to being the king."

"Bye, John!" the boy yelled over his shoulder as he turned to face his playmates. "Alright, who's next?"

John walked back to the ship. The idea that he had ever been that carefree was strange to him. He had always been a soldier. And he had a name other than John. Black, the file said. That meant he had parents, or had at some point. His mind was reeling as he opened the hatch.

"Yes, Lieutenant, it is," said Dr. Halsey. "I'm more sure of that than ever."

"Doctor," said John. "Subject #117 displays both of the traits you had me screen for, and I have no unusual incidents to report."

"Thank you, SIERRA. Oh! I was going to give you a coin to test his luck with."

"No need, ma'am. Someone already gave me one a long time ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to [heatinfreezing](http://archiveofourown.org/users/heatinfreezing/pseuds/heatinfreezing) for John's full name.


	4. Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (4 May 2017):  
> added on to the end in response to feedback that the ending was abrupt

_FLEETCOM Military Complex, Reach_  
_23 Sept 2517_  
_2300 hours_

"Codename: SIERRA?" A small hologram of a white-haired woman wearing a toga and a laurel wreath appeared on a pedestal. "Dr. Halsey would like you to join her in the amphitheater for the induction of the recruits into the program."

"Thank you, Déjà," John replied, straightening his black dress uniform for the hundredth time as she disappeared. He hadn't been issued service ribbons, as his entire existence was highly classified, to say nothing of the fact that most of his service record consisted of battles that would hopefully never take place, but he preferred not to wear them anyway. He had never fought for personal recognition, and his full ribbon rack was much too ostentatious for his taste. He preferred to keep his appearance as simple as possible.

John turned and headed toward the amphitheater. He had only been there three times before. The last time had been shortly before the whole planet was turned to glass, and the first... Well, he was about to get a whole new perspective on his first time there. Déjà's name had never been more appropriate.

Dr. Halsey was standing on the podium at the center of the room as he entered, surveying the empty seats with her arms crossed and a carefully neutral expression on her face. She reminded him for all the world of an anxious marine second lieutenant preparing to brief her platoon before her first combat sortie. She looked up as he entered.

"SIERRA. Are you prepared for this? Things are going to be a bit different from what you remember, but some things will be exactly the same. You will find things familiar, and you won't be able to let that influence you. If you go easy on the children you recognize, or if you treat them any differently at all, then the whole project could fall apart." She sighed. "I know you've been briefed, I just..."

John interrupted as she trailed off. "Our duty as soldiers is to protect humanity," he said. "Whatever the cost."

Halsey looked at him with a type of awe he had never seen from a civilian; only from UNSC forces that were pinned down and cut off until he arrived. She turned back to the empty rows of seats. "Bring them in."

Three sets of double doors opened in the far wall, and hundreds of children began filing in, each accompanied by a handler. John blinked. He had been prepared for the shock of seeing his brothers and sisters as children again. He had been prepared for the fact that there would be more trainees than in his class by a factor of four; his and Cortana's debriefings about the Spartans' operational performance had convinced the people in charge to restore the full initial funding for 300 Spartans, as opposed to the 75 he had trained among. What he had not been prepared for was the fact that, without the context of having known each child as a warrior, the ones he didn't know just looked like civilians. Every one of them was brave, and he recognized that they were all cut from the same cloth as the Spartans he had trained with, but when he looked at trainee 084 he saw Fhajad. When he looked at trainee 413 or any of the others he didn't know, all he saw was a scared child.

John took a deep breath. This was the cost of protecting humanity. He would pay it.

As soon as the children had all been seated, Dr. Halsey began to address them. "As per Naval Code 45812," she said, "you are hereby conscripted into the UNSC Special Project, codenamed SPARTAN II."

A wave of confusion rippled through the conscripts, and SIERRA saw Halsey mentally shifting gears, uncomfortably trying to find a way to make them understand. He remembered the speech she had made when he had sat in those seats, and stepped forward.

"You have been called upon to serve," he said. "You will be trained. You will become the best we can make of you; the best anyone has ever been. You will be the protectors of Earth and all her colonies."

Every child in the room was staring at him with rapt attention.

"This place will become your home. Your fellow trainees will become your family. The training will be harder than anything you have ever done, but completing it will set you apart. Rest now. We begin tomorrow."

The handlers pulled the now-grinning children to their feet and escorted them out of the room.

Dr. Halsey turned to John. "Thank you, SIERRA. That was an excellent speech. I doubt I could have given it better myself."

"Respectfully, ma'am," he replied, "I'm fairly certain you already did."

She gave a small laugh and a half smile. "If you say so. Now comes the hard part, for them and for you. You're going to have to treat them like they're already Spartans or they never will be; you're going to have to make them suffer."

John turned square to her and looked her squarely in the eye without blinking. "Dr. Halsey," he said, "I will complete my mission."

Halsey sighed. "I know you will. You're a Spartan. You're everything I had hoped to create when I proposed this project. But you're also a human being. Hurting the younger selves of the dead Spartans you knew won't be easy."

It struck John for the first time that she didn't understand him nearly as well as he had always thought she did. He had been given pause by the exact opposite group of conscripts. "Doctor," was all he could think to say, "Spartans never die."

**Author's Note:**

> All chapter titles are the names of campaign missions from the Halo games.


End file.
